I Don't Want To Die
by ArtemisNakajima
Summary: Yuuri Katsuki is a regular college student who happens to be earning his law degree at the University of Washington, same as one Viktor Nikiforov. When Viktor discovers a hidden truth about Yuuri's past that even HE doesn't know about, what will he do to protect the man he loves? And what if in the process, he has to make a choice, one that could save Yuuri... or loose him forever?
1. Come find me

The night was clear and dark, light spilling from the overhead street lights. The streets in downtown weren't bare; Seattle had as much of a nightlife as any other large city, but some of the smaller alleys were pretty lifeless at this time of night. Most of the shops directly on Union were closed for the evening, but a few of the smaller bars and such were still open. However; none of these mattered. At least; not to a young ravenette speeding down 3rd Street at almost two o'clock in the morning.

Yuuri's breaths came out in heavy pants as he bolted down the hill, glancing every so often at the figure running behind him. Adrenaline thrummed in his veins, and his face was turning a beet red color. He struggled to pick up the pace, launching himself down towards Union with every ounce of strength he had left. The noise of nearby cars beat distractedly in his ears, and Yuuri screamed.

"Stop!" shouted an indistinct voice behind him. Yuuri didn't dare to stop; for all he knew, this could be the man that had been following him all day.

Yuuri turned right on Union, speeding west toward first as fast as he could possibly go. His nails were digging into his palms as his heartbeat started to speed up, if that was even possible. The whisper of the wind in his ears, the pain in his left thigh; it all was starting to become too much.

Yuuri could feel the pain, the numbness, racing up his legs. He knew now that he was out of strength; he was running on pure adrenaline.

And as soon as that was gone, he would be done for.

The pounding of Yuuri's feet on the hard cement sidewalk was starting to come less frequently, and Yuuri finally noticed that he was slowing down. The thought terrified him. He tried to force himself to move faster; to keep going, but he knew that his tank was almost empty.

In a last-ditch effort, Yuuri scanned the area around him, searching for a hiding place in his immediate area as he struggled along the street. His eyes flitted over innumerable useless dumpsters, a variety of windowed (and very locked) cars, and finally, a narrow alleyway filled with trash. Yuuri breathed a sigh of relief, pooling the last of his energy into finding a small hiding spot to wedge himself into before finally letting everything out.

Yuuri gasped in numerous breaths, crying into his hands as he tried to regain feeling in his limbs. He didn't even truly understand what was happening; only that his life was on the line.

"Yuuri?" Yuuri's head shot up. He would recognize that soft, lilting voice anywhere; it was Viktor's voice. Yuuri breathed a sigh of relief, preparing to stand, when he decided instead to sneak a glance through a small crack in his defenses.

Viktor was there; yes, that was for certain. This surprised Yuuri, but would definitely not have frightened him. Had he been the one who had chased Yuuri from the Starbucks up on Pike and Minor Ave, Yuuri would have never run in the first place.

However, he also knew that Viktor would never have chased him anyways. The man was far faster than him; he would have been upon him in less time than it would have taken Yuuri to run down past the Paramount theater on 9th.

When Yuuri peeped through the gap, he saw that Viktor was not alone. Three heavily armed officers stood near him, two on the side while one held a gun to his shiny silver head. Viktor had his hands up in surrender, his brown gloved palms facing forwards and his trench coat riding up on his shoulders. Viktor sighed deeply, but Yuuri could hear how it shook.

He was terrified.

"Yuuri," Viktor whispered again, reassuringly this time. He could hear how forced his calm was; his eyes were closed, and his face was screwed up in pain.

As Yuuri did a once over of Viktor, he noticed the man didn't seemed harmed; at least, not visibly. Other than a slight limp and a bright purple black eye, Yuuri didn't see any other injuries. He blinked many times, trying to make sense of this horrible situation.

Just then, Viktor opened his mouth to say something. He started, his voice hoarse and loud, but before he could say anymore, one of the uniformed men brought the butt of their gun down on the back of Viktor's head. He crumpled to the floor, shaking, and Yuuri flinched as his body hit the pavement.

"Okay, I am so done with this. It's taken long enough," the distinctly feminine voice muttered, before quickly raising its voice and calling.

"So, Yuuri; if you don't come out now I'm gonna shoot your boyfriend in the head. How does that sound?" She kicked her foot out, rolling Viktor over face up.

"Directly in between those oh-so-pretty eyes of his. Do you really want to see his blood run across the alley?" she said nonchalantly. She cracked her knuckles, leaning her head in either direction.

Viktor's eyes opened on the floor, and he gasped in a deep breath, ready to scream something. Before he could get a word out, however, the officer put her boot in his mouth.

"Oh, no you don't, honey. I have had ENOUGH of you screaming." Her voice was dastardly calm, nothing about her voice or body language hinting at her true objective.

"Okay, Sweetie!" she shouted, obviously now addressing Yuuri. "If you aren't out here by the count of three, I'm shooting this doll." He cocked her gun, pulling her boot from Viktor's mouth and delivering a harsh kick to his side before aiming the gun at Viktor's face.

"Don't... Yuuri... I'm begging you..." Viktor choked out, clutching his side.

"Oh, Hun, stop MOVING. It's only gonna make it harder to aim." She put her foot on Viktor's stomach, pressing down and immobilizing him.

"Okay, Yuuri, I'm counting to three! One..." Yuuri started to shake in his hiding spot, clenching his fists.

"Two..." Yuuri's heartbeat, which had calmed down considerably, started to pound in his chest. _She won't do it, she won't do it, she won't_... the woman leveled her gun.

 _But what do I know about her?_

Yuuri made his decision.

"Okay, thr-"

"DON'T SHOOT!" screamed Yuuri, tears streaming down his cheeks as he climbed out of his hiding spot. He lurched forwards, holding his hands up high into the air as he walked towards the trio and Viktor.

"Ah... well, well, well, what do we have here?" she pulled the gun away from Viktor's face and cocked her hips to the side, placing her hand, and the gun, against her hip.

"Yuuri... why...?" Viktor muttered, looking completely desolate. The woman kicked his side, making him curl up and spit blood. Yuuri cringed.

"I'll... I'll do whatever you want," Yuuri forced out, clenching his teeth. "If you promise not to hurt him." The woman bowed mockingly, the gun in front of her belly.

"Of course, your Majesty." Her face was hidden behind a mask, but Yuuri knew she was smiling.

"Just... please. Promise me." He knew that a bounty hunter's word meant nothing, but he asked for it anyways. He didn't know why; it just felt right, somehow.

"Fine, fine, I promise." She laughed, the sound echoing through the mostly empty night. Yuuri glanced up at the stars momentarily, wondering if he'd ever see them again, wherever he was going.

All he knew was that whatever happened, he didn't expect to come out of it alive.

..oo00oo..

 _6 months earlier, University of Washington Campus_

 _Seattle, Washington USA_

 _11:36am, PT (Pacific Time)_

"Yuuri Katsuki," called a deep, masculine voice, and Yuuri came to, unsure of his surroundings. The area around him was dark, but he could feel wetness below his mouth, and knew his arms were around his head. Moreover, the distinct chatter around him made him nervous.

"Monsieur Chulanont, pouvez-vous reveiller Monsieur Katsuki [Mr. Chulanont, could you wake up Mr. Katsuki?]? Je pense qu'il c'est rendormi [He seems to have fallen back asleep]," called Prof. Yakov disdainfully, and Yuuri felt a tap on his shoulder. The ravenette bolted upright, the bright lights of his French classroom making him wince. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the white spots from his vision as he heard the man to his left begin to speak.

"Pardonnez-moi, monsieur Yakov; je m'appelle Viktor Nikiforov. Phichit a été transféré... il y a deux jours je pense? [Pardon me, Mr. Yakov; my name is Viktor Nikiforov. Phichit transferred... I think it's been two days?]".

"Je suis désolé; J'ai oublié! Tu sais; je me suis très vieux, donc j'oublie beaucoup. [I'm so sorry; I forgot! You know; I'm very old, so I forget a lot.]" Yuuri could see the other students in the class desperately trying to understand the conversation; Viktor and Yakov were speaking null-perfect French. Fortunately, French came fairly easy to Yuuri; it took him barely a moment to register Viktor and Yakov's words.

"Wait, Phichit transferred?! Why?!" Yuuri shouted. When the whole class started laughing, Yuuri turned bright pink and shrunk back to into his seat. However, Viktor didn't laugh. He just looked at Yuuri again with a curious expression on his face, finally turning back to Yakov as he started to talk again at the front of the class.

Yuuri had assumed his question had gone completely ignored, and was fine with that. He honestly didn't care about what he did and didn't pick up on, as long as the attention wasn't on him. He figured that Viktor wouldn't talk to him; the man looked super athletic, built for some sort of long distance running, or perhaps even... ballet?

Yuuri pushed away the thought. Never would someone like Viktor ever be caught in something akin to a leotard. He looked too popular and perfect for that. No; he was probably a basketball player, or something of the sort.

Yuuri squeaked in surprise when a small, immaculately folded note was pushed onto his desk by eager hands.

Yuuri turned to look at Viktor as he picked up the note, but the man was staring intently up at the board, ignoring Yuuri altogether. Or, would be, if he hadn't just passed Yuuri a note.

 ** _Yuri,_**

 ** _I thought you'd probably want an answer to your question._**

 ** _Phichit transferred because he was having difficulty keeping up and decided to try out an easier class. This class was full before he left, so with him gone I was able to get in, in case your wondering._**

 ** _XX Viktor_**

Yuuri read and re-read the note, thinking about his reply. Finally, he pulled out a large piece of lined paper and set the ink against the sheet intently.

 ** _Viktor,_**

 ** _First of all, thank you for letting me know._**

 ** _Second of all, my name had two u's. Yu uri._**

 ** _XX Yuuri_**

Yuuri carefully folded the new sheet, readying to pass it to Viktor, but then he thought of something.

 ** _P.S: You aren't an English major, are you?_**

Yuuri then refolded the sheet and tucked it under Viktor's arm, who snatched it up quickly. His eyes flitted over the paper quickly, but when he read the last line, he merely frowned. Quickly writing down his answer on the same sheet, Viktor passed the note back to Yuuri.

 **Yu uri,**

 _ **Of course. Any time.**_

 _ **I'm sorry for spelling you're name wrong; I'm really bad with foreign names. Plus, I have a friend named Yuri who spells it like that. So... easy mistake, right?**_

 _ **And no, I'm a Law Major. Why do you ask?**_

 _ **XX Viktor**_

Yuuri couldn't help but snicker at his obvious confusion using the words 'your' and 'you're'. Yuuri clicked his pen, smiling from ear to ear.

 _ **Viktor,**_

 _ **That's great! I'm a law major too; came from Japan to study law here. And you're right, easy mistake.**_

 _ **And as for the English Major; you used the wrong Your/'re. Your is possessive, and you're is a word used to describe a person. However; that's also an easy mistake to make.**_

 _ **So, your accent doesn't sound like it's from around here; where are you from?**_

 _ **XX Yuuri**_

Yuuri passed the note back to Viktor, who opened the note quickly under the cover of his left arm. Then, out of nowhere, his cheeks turned a bright pink, and he blushed. Viktor picked up his pen quickly, smiling slightly, then he quickly shoved the note back on Yuuri's desk and turned an even darker shade of red. He shoved his chin in his hand, covering his lazy grin from Mr. Yakov.

Yuuri was now more than curious to read the note. He opened it quickly, tearing the paper on one of the folds as he struggled to open it.

 _ **Yuuri,**_

 _ **Thank you for letting me know. I've been wondering why I get a C+ on all of my English papers 😜.**_

 _ **XoXo Viktor**_

 _ **F.Y.I: About where I'm from... I think that's a topic we should discuss over dinner. If you're up for it, of course.**_

Directly below his name there was a phone number, scrawled in messy handwriting. It looked like Viktor had been on edge about asking him out; Yuuri found it adorable. He quickly wrote back, saying yes to everything and quickly putting Viktor's number in his phone.

When Viktor read the single word, a huge, beautiful smile broke out on his face, and he smiled. Yuuri couldn't help the grin that worked its way around his face, and it stayed there the rest of the day.

Yuuri wasn't scared about the date. He had a hunch that with someone seemingly so perfect...

How could anything go wrong?

 **Ohohohohohoooo... Okay this story idea has been bugging me for a while, and 'Je regret rien!'.**

 **Also, I just couldn't resist putting some french in there; I'm only 14, yet I've been studying french for nearly a decade. I love the language, and I just HAD to put it in there.**

 **Anyways; I'll probably get another chapter out by this afternoon; so soon, right?!**

 **Hope you enjoyed!**

 **P.S. I am not sorry for my cliffhangers and cliches. It's just one of those things that I love to do, because no matter that so many others have done it it the past; it will still put my readers on edge.**

 **And I LIKE my readers on edge ;).**

 **~Viktor**


	2. I am not who you think I am

**_A/N: I'm not apologizing._**

 ** _WARNING: This is not like my other stories. I normally write cutesy stuff (+angst, of course), but this is a lot... different._**

 ** _If you aren't okay with reading torture, then this is the last chapter you should read. I'm probs not going to be super graphic because... yeah, but it would have some pretty violent stuff, so..._**

 ** _just warning ya!_**

 _Present Day, undisclosed location._

 _USA_

 _March eighteenth; 7:39pm_

Yuuri woke spastically from his nightmare, launching himself straight up into the air. He clenched his fists and gasped for air, only to have it sucked back out of him. Slamming back down onto the hard metal bed he'd been forced to lay on, Yuuri groaned in pain.

Then he started to cry.

As Yuuri took in the space around him, he couldn't help the bubble of pure terror that made its way up his spine, making him shake all over. He now realized that he was strapped to his chair, hard rubber bands restricting his movement. His wrists were tied at an uncomfortable angle on the side of the bed, making sleeping impossible, and his clothing had been reduced to nothing but a small, thin nightshirt, and a pair of scratchy wool leggings.

Yuuri tried to speak, his throat constricting, but found that along with his other restraints, he'd been gagged as well. He felt lucky that he could see at all, so therefore began to scan the room.

He immediately wished he hadn't.

Bile rose in Yuuri's throat as his eyes swept over the carnage around him. On the left side of the wall, Yuuri saw innumerable torture devices; there were blades of all sizes, curved at all different angles. One of the small tables by a steel metal door held an array of tools, likely for nothing more than to cause the utmost pain. But that wasn't even the worst part.

Scattered around the room were at least five full-on torture stations, all open for the eye to see. They were all made of different materials, all different sizes and shapes, but there was one thing they all had in common with each other, as well as the floor and walls.

They were all coated in blood.

Yuuri started to scream through the gag, his voice coming out quieter than he'd have liked and strained. His hoarse voice, however small it was, served to wake up the only other figure in the room.

Viktor sat cross-legged on the other side of the room, his upper body tied up and his mouth gagged. Blood stained much of his body and his ragged, silver hair, making Yuuri cry even harder. He sat hunched over, like the pain he was obviously feeling was too much. But when Viktor looked up at Yuuri, Yuuri noticed he didn't look scared, or really... anything at all. Not anymore.

He just looked tired, like he just wanted it to end. And Yuuri doubted he even care in what way that was.

Just then, a loud banging noise echoed from outside the room, drawing both of the men's gazes to the door. What sounded like a large door opened, followed by the screech of metal, and then the door to the room opened with a horrifying shriek.

"Why, hello, your Majesty! You're finally awake; good. I was almost worried we'd have to shock you or something. Not that it would have been a problem; we're going to do that anyways." She laughed loudly, and Yuuri realized that he was staring at the woman who had pointed a gun at Viktor's head in the alley. Her vibrant magenta hair stood out against the white of her lab coat, and her pretty eyes glinted with hatred.

"Hi!" she said joyously, waving a hand in a happy little wave. "I'm Yukko; Yukko Nishigori! I will enjoy your company today." She said this last part with a mock bow, then giggled like a teenager.

But this woman was not a teenager, or anything close to one. The color of her eyes may have portrayed innocence, but the smoldering look she gave Yuuri and Viktor betrayed her true nature.

This woman was clearly phsychotic. Her blue gloves and coat were stained red, the hair tied up in a neat bun, and she was fingering a blade in a way that would make anyone panic and run for cover. Then she looked at Yuuri in a way that made his blood run cold. She frowned mockingly.

"Awww, and here I thought you'd recognize me easily!" Yuuri frowned in his chair, struggling.

"Comment allez-vous, monsieur? Ah, Sommes-nous dans la meme classe?! [How are you doing sir? Oh; are we in the same class?!]" She said in a cutesy little voice, batting her eyelashes at him and bringing the blade handle to her cheek. Suddenly, Yuuri was brought back to nearly eight months before; the beginning of his French course at the University of Washington.

 _Yuuri walked through the Hub, taking in the beauty of his new school. The dozens of fuzzy reclining chairs on the right side by the electronic fireplaces made Yuuri want to just fall asleep, but the amount of glass in the building did nothing but impress him. A piano could be heard coming from somewhere upstairs, and Yuuri stopped for a moment, listening to the beautiful sound emanate from the ceiling._

 _Suddenly, a small, high pitched voice barged in on his thoughts and causing him to jump. He turned around quickly, surprised to see a young woman with bright magenta hair staring at him quizzically._

 _"Pardonnez-moi, monsieur. Je dois chercher un translateur; ou est la service ou je peux lui decouvrir? [Pardon me, sir. I must look for a translator; where I can find them?]" Yuuri stood, surprised at this woman's obvious loss of direction, and proceeded to point her towards a kiosk in between the restrooms and a bank room._

 _"Ici. Je pense qu'il y a des translateurs ici. [Here. I think they have translators here.]" The woman looked up at him and thanked him quickly, rushing off to the desk and gesticulating expressively at the desk attendant. Meanwhile, Yuuri just made his way across the large building, passing a couple staircases and finally making his way to the Commuter Commons; or the ComCom for short. He'd heard about it from one of his friends, Guang-Hong Ji. Guang-Hong said it was usually for people who took the bus on and off of campus, but even if you weren't a commuter, it was a great place to study._

 _Yuuri checked in with his student number at a small desk by the door. When he turned to the right and noticed the sheer number of busses that came on and off of campus, Yuuri's eyes widened in surprise._

 _After nearly an hour at the ComCom, Yuuri finally debarked on his mission to find his French class. He walked out the door to the Hub he'd come in, trailing the path around the field and remarking upon the large bench-swing at the far end. He continued along his walk, passing beneath an arch. The ground changed to brick beneath his feet, and Yuuri made a mental note to wear rubber sold boots the next time it rained. Looking up, he noticed the sign near a door to his left read 'Allen Library' and the one to his right read 'Suzzallo', and Yuuri reminded himself to visit them later._

 _Finally, Yuuri trekked down to Johnson Hall; the building where he'd be having his French class. He turned left at the far end of the path, which had changed back into cement at this point, and walked down the stairs to the doors._

 _Just as Yuuri reached for the door handle, a loud bang echoed and he stumbled back in surprise. Someone had slammed the doors open loudly, and she now stood before him, her long hair blowing in the wind._

 _"Oh, hello what's-your-name. I never did catch it earlier; what is it?" She said, smiling brightly. Strange; the woman had been looking for a translator._

 _How could she suddenly speak such perfect English?_

 _"Uhh... I thought you didn't speak English..." Yuuri muttered lamely, still on the ground. The girl reached down and helped him up, blabbing loudly._

 _"Well, hint; when you see a hot guy, fake a foreigner! They'll feel sorry for you and help you, then maybe you can get their number! They'll usually just laugh it off, but you're different..." She cocked her head quickly, and Yuuri started to wonder how fake this girl actually was. Her emotions seemed insanely pronounced, and Yuuri couldn't help but feel uncomfortable._

 _Especially because she still hadn't let go of his hand._

 _Yuuri tugged it out of her grip quickly, and she turned back to him and made a small sound. Yuuri almost felt bad, but her happy façade was back in less than a second._

 _"Hey, can I get your number? That was the point of this, you know," she looked at him expectantly._

 _"Listen..." Yuuri started, rubbing the back of his neck._

 _"I'm not really..." He stopped for a second._

 _"...into girls." Yuuri watched the woman's reaction carefully, ready for the surprise and, possibly, disgust._

 _But what he didn't expect was for the woman to drop her façade and glare at him, her upper lip pulling up into a snarl. Then she was back to 'normal', the smile high on her face and the sadness at being rejected nowhere to be seen._

 _Yuuri lurched back. It had been a mere moment, probably less than a second, that her fake smile had dropped, but Yuuri couldn't get it out of his mind. That hateful look, that burning snarl. Yuuri sprinted past the woman and into Johnson hall, suddenly scared of this woman._

 _"Oh, forgot to say!" She called, entirely unfazed. Yuuri heard her giggle, and his blood pounded in his ears._

 _"My name's Yukko!"_

Yuuri flinched in his chair, suddenly understanding his familiarity with the woman in the center of the room. Mrs. Yukko Nishigori, the woman who he was a captive of.

Who was currently whistling a high piano song, the very same one that a friend had written for him a few months before, while rocking her feet back and forth and smiling like there was nothing that made her happier in the world.

Yuuri suddenly understood his immediate revulsion of the woman when he'd first met her, what had seemed so wrong. Her creepiness, her want to have his phone number. It wasn't an accident that she'd met him, that she'd been speaking French, or that she was in his class.

It had all been part of her master plan.

Yuuri finally forced the gag out of his mouth, coughing loudly. He seethed, glaring at Yukko with all his might.

"What took you so long?" he growled, a darker side of him making its way to the surface.

"Well, obviously there were some... minor complications. None of us knew about your... preferences, and all I had were young girls to try tracking you. But you didn't like women. That meant I had to find someone else." She seemed saddened at this, tapping her finger against her lips pensively.

"I could only find one person at the time who'd be willing to do it, but he said that he would just try to be your friend instead of get romantically involved with you. When he finally met you, however, he decided he couldn't do it. Really; he tried. I guess I never really thought that he might try to deceive me." Yuuko frowned.

"Phichit was a good soldier; a good man. It was a shame he had to go killing himself before any of the fun actually began," Yukko said, winking at Yuuri, and Yuuri felt his insides clench.

"You killed my... my best friend?!" Yuuri said, not caring whether it had been a set up or not. Phichit had been his friend, or he wouldn't have decided to betray Yukko. Yuuri felt the tears well up in his eyes again.

It was a surprise. He thought he hadn't any tears left.

"Noooooo..." She started, dragging out the vowel. "He actually killed himself. Now; shall we begin?" Yukko grinned darkly, snapping her gloves against her wrist and picking up the two largest blades she could find.

Yuuri hadn't even the chance to scream before she plunged them to the hilt in his hands.

"Stay still, honey. Don't want you to die before we tear you apart."


	3. I make my own rules

Viktor watched Yuuri's feet twitch as the blades went through his hands, and Viktor started to cry, tears running down his cheeks. He felt sick to his stomach as the woman started to cut into his flesh with a thin scalpel, laughing manically and etching designs into his skin.

"It'll be all pretty when I'm done! I really hope you don't die; then I'd have to throw my masterpiece away," she said, as though that were the least of her worries. She was bent over the bed, her coat stained with more and more blood every time she pulled away. Thin streams of vile, red liquid traveled down small, curved gutters and ran into containers at the base of the table, and Yukko giggled as though Yuuri's screams were music to her ears.

"Please..." gasped Viktor, coughing blood onto the floor.

"Kill me instead. Let him go." Viktor knew that the woman probably wouldn't listen to him, but he had to try. He needed to get Yuuri out of there; his life was much more important than Viktor's, and he would be more likely to be listened to by the police.

"Je vous en supplie! [I'm begging you!]" Viktor begged, hoping that French would make Yukko be more likely to speak to him.

It worked. Yukko set down her scalpel, turning towards him and leaning against the table casually.

"Pourquoi? [Why?] So you can let him go and start a revolution or something? Never going to happen. Japan is fine as it is," said Yukko. She wasn't even trying to smile anymore. Her body language was more menacing that it had ever been in the past, and Viktor suspected it was because she was doing something that gave her joy.

She was quite the sadist, Ms. Yukko was.

"Non... please, I just... I want him to be safe," Viktor retched, his empty stomach heaving in his abdomen.

"Aww... poor baby." Suddenly, her face lit up again.

"Maybe you could help me? It is easier to have four hands than two, you know," Yukko mused, placing her finger against her lip. Blood ran down her wrist, staining the hem of her sleeve, and Viktor had to look away, unsure of what she was hinting at.

Then it hit him like a ton of bricks.

She wasn't hinting at anything. She was truly planning on making Viktor help her cause Yuuri pain.

Yukko skipped over to Viktor, heaving him up with one arm. Her brute strength was appalling to Viktor; she'd just picked him up with one hand and now held him in the air. She leaned down, placing her right arm, and the scalpel, against the small of her back.

"Oh, that would be fun!" Yukko turned around, throwing Viktor across the room. He gasped in pain as his shoulder collided with the cement wall, but it was dulled compared to his horror.

Who WAS this woman? She was obviously human; that Viktor could be sure of. And cults weren't out of the question; she seemed like a Satanist if there ever was one. However, her sheer strength was enough to make Viktor truly fear for everyone else inside the building.

Yes, Viktor knew where he was. Reason? We'll get to that later. Affiliation? Also for later. But one thing was for sure.

Viktor knew the only way to get Yuuri out of the compound was through the construction happening over them; the recent rebuilding of the Burke Museum at the northernmost part of campus. He figured that one of the freight elevators that was being used for construction purposes would probably be useful for escaping the compound.

But first? He needed to sedate Yukko. And that had only suddenly become a problem.

"You'll have so much fun! Blood makes for the best paint; it dries quickly. I would use it more often, except, you know; I'd probably get arrested!" Yukko cackled loudly, holding her stomach as she laughed. The scalpel was dangerously close to her stomach, but at this point, Viktor knew that Yukko wouldn't 'accidentally stab herself' or anything like that. She was far too comfortable with weaponry.

As Yukko lifted Viktor and shoved him against the wall, however, Viktor finally got his answer.

Covering Yukko's arm, from her wrist to her elbow, were hundreds of small puncture points. Were it anyone else, he'd have probably guessed Heroine, or something close, but with Yukko's strength, he was able to make a fairly accurate guess.

"You should really lay off the steroids. They will not help you in prison." Yukko quickly glanced down at her revealed arm, looked up at Viktor, growled, then launched him across the room again.

"I AM NEVER GOING TO PRISON! NOT AGAIN!" Viktor gasped as he hit the wall again, screaming at the loud crunch his ankle made as it hit the floor.

Oh shit.

There went his escape plan.

..oo00oo..

"Hello? HELLO?' Phichit called into his comm link, his voice raising in volume every few moments. His inside man hadn't returned any of his messages. Phichit was starting to wonder if he'd been caught.

Phichit cracked his knuckles and cocked his head to the side, awaiting his man, NK564's, message. It should have come in by now, but NK564 had said there may be some complications.

Whatever that meant.

"NK564, come in! I'm at the front door, and if they see me, I'm screwed! I'm too revealed here; please!" Phichit shout-whispered into his mic, hoping that NK564 was doing the same.

Phichit leveled his gun at the door and swore under his breath. He wore a thin, skintight hoodie and a pair of tight black pants, which were obviously not impervious to the cold. The lower half of his face was obscured by a thin black mask that he'd bought at a thrift shop down on 15th, and his gloves were made of a thin pleather material. He'd bought those online.

Phichit never bought anything online anymore. He'd faked his death less than a year before, becoming fast friends with none other than his original target, Yuuri Katsuki. When he'd signed up for the job, he'd only done it because he was required to by the government. Unfortunately, he'd been forced to abandon ship when Yukko had ordered him to kill Yuuri Katsuki, when in truth his mission had been nothing but to protect the man as they ascertained his identity.

While in the Pentagon speaking with a variety of CIA operatives, Phichit had started doing some research on one Yukko Nishigori. If knowing she was a psychotic killer wasn't enough, she'd also succeeded in infiltrating the US government and had stolen important information from the Pentagon; one of the most secure places on Earth. Of course, the only reason Phichit was able to get this information was because he, Phichit Chulanont, was actually an undercover operative for the Crime Suppression Division, or CSD. It was a branch of the Thai secret service that represented the Royal Thai Police, and Phichit had been sent to protect what Yuuri Katsuki had been rumored to be.

Royalty.

Nik, as he'd started to call NK564, was a man that Phichit had been partnered with, as the man was part of the Russian Foreign Intelligence Service (SVR RF). Because they were specially trained to be spies, the men had never actually met, and instead went by their code names. NK564 was the Russian's code name, and Phichit's was CU998, which made Phichit laugh, but also feel kind of worried. The system wasn't hard to figure out. Chulanont. He didn't know the Russian's last name, but he guessed it was probably similar.

"Please..." Phichit whined, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He was beginning to wonder if the man would ever answer when a young voice came through the comm link.

"Nik?" Phichit asked, hesitant. The voice didn't sound like Nik's, but it was Russian.

"I'm Y—I mean, ZK666." He couldn't have been more than fifteen, based solely upon his voice, but Phichit knew not to judge.

"666? Seriously? Did you ASK for that codename?" Phichit scoffed. He could hear the boy start to blow up in his ear, and quickly reached out to turn off the link for a few moments.

"DAMN IT YOU PIECE OF-" Phichit turned off his receiver, setting it for 30 seconds. Then he started to walk silently towards the door.

"I DID NOT ASK FOR IT!" ZK666 screamed, and Phichit winced. He was worried that someone would hear the link, but the boy had stopped screaming, so he figured it would be okay.

"Alright, Zodiak... can I call you Zodiak? Anyways, Zodiak, WHY ARE YOU IN MY COMM LINK?!" Phichit asked angrily. Normally, he was totally open to other people joining in, but at this very moment? He was probably about to get himself killed.

"Yeah, fine. Zodiak's cool." Zodiak sighed, his breath filling the receiver. Phichit cringed.

"Anyways, I'm a hacker-"

"A HACKER?! How old ARE you?" Phichit gasped. He quickly, glancing around him nervously. There was no one around him; he was lucky. Had someone been there, he'd already be dead.

"I'M FIFTEEN!" screamed the flustered Russian boy. Phichit covered his ears again, his eye twitching. Then, they opened wide. He thought maybe it could be a coincidence, but what was the likelyhood of THAT happening?

"Wait a minute..." Phichit smirked. "You're fifteen, Russian, and a hacker?" He heard Zodiak mumble the affirmative on the other end of the line.

"So... you wouldn't happen to be the famous teenage Russian hacker Yuri Plisetzky, would you?" Phichit cackled.

"GOD FUCKI- I mean, what are you talking about?" he was obviously flustered, and at least a little angry.

"You really are a spy, aren't you?" murmured Yuri, obviously pissed. Phichit smirked.

"No, it was just REALLY easy. I mean, Russian, fifteen, hacker? It was too simple. Try to make it harder next time. Anyways," Phichit said, finally addressing the question he'd been all but dying to ask.

"WHY ARE YOU ON HERE?! Where is Nik?" Phichit grumbled into the mic, his demeanor changing as fast as his facial expressions.

"NK564 is currently... out of commission. Your inside man is in a... dire situation, and headquarters demands immediate recovery of the assets," Yuri said professionally, clicking on the other side of the line.

'Probably a computer,' thought Phichit. He crawled behind a box, impatiently scanning the horizon.

"What kind of situation are they in, Plisetzky?" Phichit asked, his voice but a whisper. He peeked over the edge of the boxes, taking in an elevated lift and an array of small spaces that he could hide if necessary.

"NK564 has been immobilized. All Russian SVR RF members are implanted with a small device behind their ear that records physical activity and reports on injuries. NK564 appears to be injured, and the small implant that he was able to attach to the Asset has not been activated yet," reported Yuri.

"Why not?"

"Because you haven't gotten within range. As soon as you get within 500ft of the Asset, the device will activate."

"Why? Why not now?" Phichit asked, confused.

"I... I don't actually know. It might be for tracking concerns, but otherwise... anyways, please go! I've opened the front door." A loud, banging sound echoed throughout the street, and Phichit's eyes went wide as the lift started to thrum. He bolted for the lift, launching himself into a box as it started to lower down the shaft.

"How did you do that?" asked Phichit, his mouth falling open as he hid himself in the crate. Yuri laughed in his ear, a loud, airy, pride-filled laugh.

"I'm the Teenage Russian Hacker. You think I couldn't bypass some simple locking systems? You must truly underestimate me!"

"Plisetzky, focus here!" Phichit whispered harshly, effectively stopping Yuri's jabbering.

"Could you be a little more polite? I just saved your life, asshole," Yuri said, obviously angry. Phichit rolled his eyes, sitting up and taking in the boxes surrounding his crate. He noticed five other bins of various sizes, but they all appeared to be empty.

How interesting.

"Plisetzky, you think you could figure out exactly what these boxes are made of, or what were in them?" he heard clicking on the other line, and Yuri told him to hold on.

"What do the labels say?"

"Chernobyl-"

"Did you just say CHERNOBYL?! GET THE FUCK OUT OF THOSE, MAN!" screamed Yuri, and Phichit jumped out, suddenly on high alert.

"WHAT?!" Phichit yelled, staring at the boxes like they were poisonous.

"Chernobyl is a highly radioactive city in Russia that is famous for being the site of a massive radiation leak in the mid 1980's—86, to be exact. Those crates could have held radiative chemicals in them. Or... you know, they could be perfectly safe, but you don't want to take the chance, I'm sure," Yuri remarked, clicking through his computer again. It was agitating Phichit, but he decided not to say so.

"Okay... but what could this mean?"

"I dunno. I'll bring it up with my advisor. Perhaps they are using it as some form of torture method or something, although it reportedly doesn't hurt until the affected person gets sick; however, you should probably stay out of those."

"Then where the hell am I going to hide?!" whispered Phichit angrily. He was now completely exposed, and something told him that wearing all black wasn't going to help him at this point.

"Just... I don't know, HIDE," Yuri said unhelpfully.

"Seriously, kid. They put you in charge of me. I really need your help!" He could hear Yuri take a deep breath in his ear.

"Actually..."

"I'm not part of the SVR RF... or anything else. I'm..." Yuri never got to finish his sentence.

"YOU'RE NOT PART OF THE GOVERNMENT?! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, KID?! How did you even get in?" Phichit was terrified. Plisetzky was solo? What was he going to do?

"I'm an expert hacker, remember?"

And while Phichit couldn't see his face, he could swear that Yuri was smirking.


End file.
